


With you I can feel

by dandelion hands (CaPTiViTY)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Killing, M/M, wade is a crazy mofu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaPTiViTY/pseuds/dandelion%20hands
Summary: Slowly, Peter looks at him. He doesn't seem shocked, his face a careful neutral as he walks over to Wade and cocks his head to the side. “You have blue eyes.”Wade chuckles. “Yeah.”“They're really pretty.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> If something is OOC: I'm only just entering the Spiderman fandom (I've seen half of the first original movie and the movie from 2012 but that's it) and Deadpool is my jam but unfortunately there's a lot to know about him, and I might not know enough.

When Peter comes home, Deadpool is sprawled out on the couch, watching a shitty romcom on TV and eating the leftover pizza Peter was planning to heat up for dinner, his mask half pulled up. He's wearing Peter's clothes – grey jogging pants and a shirt that is too small for him – but he never takes off that mask. Not when he's around Peter, at least.  
  


“What'ya doing here?” Peter wonders, dropping his backpack next to the front door and taking off his shoes. He's not actually surprised to see Deadpool there. The merc has been coming around at least once a week ever since he found out where Peter lives.  
  


“Hey, webs,” Deadpool grins, barely looking away from the TV. “My TV is broken and the boxes were going haywire with all the shooting and screaming and 'you fucked my fucking brother you bitch!!!!'”  
  


“And so you decided it'd be a good idea to claim my TV and eat my dinner.”  
  


“I probably ate your breakfast too.”  
  


“Right.” Peter shakes his head but can't help but smile a little. He might not know who Deadpool is outside of the anti-hero life – or villain life, Peter sometimes thinks, but he doesn't like to consider it very much – but he doesn't mind him coming around every so often. He's good company, and they have the same taste in shitty midnight TV. He'd better stay on the merc's good side, too, what with him knowing Peter is Spiderman and all.  
  


“So, how was work?” Deapool asks when Peter lifts up his feet, sits down and drops them back into his lap, stealing a pizza piece out of the box. He doesn't really like it cold, but he can't be bothered to go into the kitchen. “Y'get promoted yet?”  
  


“You can't get promoted when you're a freelance photographer, I've told you this,” Peter says, staring at the screen without really knowing what he's watching. There's a boy and a girl violently making out while houses are exploding around them. “And anyway, I wasn't working today. I was just visiting aunt May. She gets lonely now that I've moved out.”  
  


Deadpool hums but doesn't answer to that. They don't really talk about their personal lives much, and when they happen to veer into that territory, the other never really knows what to say. Such is the case now.  
  


“Anyway,” Peter quickly moves on. “What about you. Did'y kill anyone today?”  
  


“No,” Deadpool says, as is his default answer. Peter isn't stupid, he knows it's a lie most of the time, but he never really pries. “Although there's a man in Detroit who'll have to live his remaining days with only three fingers on each hand, but that was yesterday... or was it Thursday?”  
  


“Yesterday _was_ Thursday.”  
  


“Oh.” Deadpool laughs. “That explains it, then.”  
  


“Right.”  
  


By the end of the movie, Deadpool has somehow ended up asleep with his head in Peter's lap. He's snoring softly, mumbling things Peter can't understand under his breath. Peter misses the ending altogether because he's too busy watching Deadpool. It would be so easy to find out who he is right now – all he has to do is remove Deadpool's mask, but he'd never do that. He knows Deadpool's reluctance to share his real identity isn't just about trust. He's worried Peter won't want to be friends anymore when he sees his face, which is stupid, but Peter won't push.  
  


“I know you're staring at me.”  
  


Peter jolts, and Deadpool lets out a chuckle, sitting up until he's half-leaning against the younger man's shoulder. He yawns, then shakes his head and mutters “shut up” to one of the voices in his head.  
  


“Sleep well?” Peter asks, to which Deadpool only nods. He's only ever quiet like this when he's just woken up, and Peter sort of loves it. Sleepy Deadpool seems _almost_ normal, and whilst Peter doesn't mind the part of Deadpool that is undeniably, batshit crazy, sometimes he gets tired.  
  


“'M gonna head home,” Deadpool decides after a few minutes. “Leave you to go to bed 'n shit.” He yawns again, and Peter almost wants to tell him to spend the night, but he doesn't. It's one line they haven't crossed, and Peter isn't sure if what will happen if they do.  
  


“Don't get hit by a bus or anything,” he warns when the merc is dressed back into his suit and ready to leave through the window, because Deadpool seems drunk on sleep still.  
  


“Spidey, I have a healing factor. I might throw myself in front of a bus just for the fun of it.”  
  


“Don't do that!” Peter yells after him, but then the window is slamming closed and Deadpool is already gone.  
  


 

  
  


Before Deadpool knew Spiderman's real name, they used to meet up on top of Oscorp. Before Deadpool ever saw Peter's face, he used to have a crush on him.  
  


“I don't really... date,” Spiderman had told him when Deadpool had mentioned it – because what reason did he really have to keep it a secret? “I mean, I tried once, but then her father died and I promised to stay away from her so she wouldn't get hurt, and-” he shook his head. “It just seems too messy.”  
  


** [We have a healing factor, though. Does he realize that?] **  
  


_[You idiot. He clearly doesn't want us.]_

 

The boxes started fighting, then, but Deadpool just nodded and stood, muttering something about having seen the movie before leaving. The next time, he pretended they'd never had the conversation in the first place, and Spiderman seemed happy to do the same.  
  


Wade doesn't know what got him thinking about that. Maybe it's the fact that he's sat in the corner booth at IHOP, eating a very nutritious breakfast that he's pretty sure is actually meant for four people, and Peter just walked in, a girl with red hair, blue eyes and a big rack trailing behind him nervously. Peter sits down with his back to Wade, and Wade is honestly glad that he didn't see him. Despite not knowing what his face looks like, he's pretty sure Peter would recognize his skin. It's pretty unique and unlike in the movie – that he totally did _not_ fondle Wolverine's balls for, thank you very much - it's more scarred than that it looks like it belongs to a burn victim.  
  


**[Who's the girl?]** yellow wonders.  
  


_ [Obviously his girlfriend.] _  
  


**[Peter doesn't date.]**  
  


_[Maybe he changed his mind?]_  
  


“Will the both of you please shut up?” Wade hisses. He wants to leave, but he would have to walk passed Peter and the girl to do so, and Peter would see him, and that wouldn't be good, so instead he watches the two of them eat. Occasionally, they'll make conversation, but ultimately they both stand up, hug, and the girl leaves, after which Spidey sits down again.  
  


**[How long is he planning on staying here for? Jesus. He's gonna notice us!]**

 

_[So what if he does? Honestly, we know who he is. He should know us!]_  
  


**[He'll hate us. He'll think we're a monster.]**  
  


_[We_ are _a monster.]_  
  


**[He doesn't need to know that!]**  
  


_[He'll find out eventually. He already knows we kill.]_  
  


Eventually, Peter leaves as well. Wade pays for his food, pulls his hood up over his head and goes home, hoping the neighbors will have stopped fighting by now. If he's lucky, the author of this story will grant him his one wish of the TV working again.  
  


 

  
  


Peter's about to fall asleep on the couch when there's a bang in the hallway outside his apartment, startling him into awareness. He's opens the door in less that two seconds and catches Deadpool, who was previously leaning against it, in his arms when the merc looks like he's gonna fall over.  
  


It's not his insistent, incomprehensible rambling that worries Peter. It's the fact that he's covered in layers upon layers of blood.  
  


“Deadpool?” Peter asks, “are you okay?”  
  


It's a stupid question, because obviously the older man is anything but okay, but at least he allows Peter to lead him inside while he keeps rambling.  
  


“-and I didn't mean to kill him but he just kept talking and talking and talking and then he started saying how useless I am and I know I'm stupid but he doesn't have to say it and then he just wouldn't stop screaming and all I could see was my father and-” he pauses abruptly, taking a gasping breath, “-and I killed him too and I'm just so-”  
  


“Stop.” Peter says it as firmly as he can, despite his heart beating loudly in his chest with a constricting sort of panic. He's seen Deadpool like this before, but it's frightening every time. It's like Deadpool isn't even Deadpool anymore – all his confidence and self-worth completely gone. Sometimes Peter wonders if he ever had any. Maybe he just fakes it. “You're not useless or stupid. You're the best person I know okay? Just take a deep breath.”  
  


“Yellow just keeps screaming and white is afraid and I killed him and I promised you I wouldn't kill as much but I did I did I di-”  
  


Peter slaps him.  
  


For a moment, they're both quiet, staring at each other as if something irreparable has broken. Peter is horrified. He never wants to hurt Deadpool like that. He doesn't deserve it.  
  


Then Deadpool breathes out, suddenly calm. “Thanks.”  
  


“Are you hurt?” Peter asks, feeling along Deadpool's body for wounds. He doesn't find any.  
  


“No. I mean I have a headache, but no bruises or anything.”  
  


“Okay,” Peter nods. “Right, that's good. You should go and take a shower, yeah? You're covered in muck.”  
  


“Okay...”  
  


Wade makes sure the door is closed and locked firmly before he takes off his mask, staring at his reflection in the mirror without really seeing anything. The water is too hot when he steps under it, turning pink when it disappears into the drain.  
  


**[Killed him killed him killed him killed him killed him!]**  
  


_[Please stop please stop please stop!]_  
  


The boxes are yelling, both at the same time, and Wade's head gets filled up with it until he can't think about anything but the pale flesh of a neck between his fingers as it turned blue. He kept doing that, choking him and then letting go right before he was about to pass out, then repeating the process. Ultimately, he cut the man into little pieces. He can't remember exactly what happened after that, but his mouth tastes like blood and he thinks he might have to add cannibalism to his curriculum.  
  


When the water at his feet is clean, he turns the taps and steps out, using a clean towel to dry himself off. He can't exactly put his bloody suit back on and even his mask is filthy, so he wraps the towel around his waist, takes a deep breath and slowly opens the door.  
  


Something gets thrown at him, and Wade scrambles to catch it, finding that he's holding Peter's Spiderman mask in his hands. He looks up at the other man to find him with his eyes directed at the ceiling.  
  


“You don't have to show me who you are yet if you don't want to.”  
  


All at once, Wade's head turns silent. He stares at Peter with something like wonder in his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. Yet, there is a small sliver of doubt in the back of his mind, reminding him that people are bad.  
  


“Is it because you don't want to see how ugly I am, or because you think I'm not ready for you to?”

 

“Well, are you?” Peter asks, still not looking at him. Wade's gotta give it to him: if the roles were reversed, he wouldn't have been able to resist.  
  


For a moment, he stays silent, thinking. Then, he says: “My name is Wade.”  
  


Slowly, Peter looks at him. He doesn't seem shocked, his face a careful neutral as he walks over to Wade and cocks his head to the side. “You have blue eyes.”  
  


Wade chuckles. “Yeah.”  
  


“They're really pretty.”  
  


Beneath the scars, Wade's skin flushes pink. He's never been complimented before, at least not like this, and maybe it's the fact that he's not wearing any clothes, but he suddenly feels vulnerable. He doesn't like the feeling, but he doesn't shy away from it. Not with Peter. He's not sure that he can.  
  


He shivers. It's not from the cold, but it seems to snap Peter out of whatever daze he's in, and he quickly turns away and walks into his bedroom, coming back seconds after with jogging pants and a sweatshirt for Deadpool to wear. He goes back into the bathroom and gets dressed there, looking at his face in the mirror again and wondering this time what might have gone through Peter's head just now.  
  


**[Pretty eyes. Jesus. He might have just as well said that out skin is disgusting.]**  
  


_[Oh, just shut the fuck up.]_

  
  


  
  


“Hey,” Peter greets when he comes home, finding Wade sat on his couch. He's looking at the TV, which is turned off, and turns his head when Peter greets him, smiling.  
  


“Hi yourself. Have a nice day?”  
  


Peter hums, taking off his mask and dropping it on the coffee table. He lets himself fall onto Wade's chest without bothering to change out of his costume. “You seem real entertained, staring at a black screen and everything.” He closes his eyes, hiding his face against the crook of Wade's neck. “'M tired.”  
  


Wade drags his hand through Peter's hair and smiles, trying to ignore the fact that his not-boyfriend is basically sitting in his lap.  
  


“It's quiet, sometimes that's enough.”  
  


“Okay...” Peter yawns. “Wanna order take-out? I don't think I have any food. You ate everything.”  
  


“Sounds good,” Wade agrees. “If you get off of me I can go get the phone.”  
  


“But you're comfy,” Peter whines.  
  


“Get over it, Spidey-boy!” Wade laughs, pushing Peter sideways so he's sitting on the couch. He stands up and looks down at him. Puppy eyes stare back, and if Peter weren't dressed like Spiderman he'd look like a kid right now – or maybe it just adds to the image.  
  


**[He's amazing.]**  
  


_[Spiderman. Amazing Spiderman. Hehehehe.]_  
  


**[Stop making terrible puns.]**  
  


_[Stop adding to our crush!]_  
  


Wade quickly looks away, not wanting Peter to catch his sudden change in mood – the boxes always make him somewhat jittery – and goes into the kitchen to retrieve the phone. He's already punching in the number when he walks back into the living room, and smiles when he finds Peter sprawled out, half asleep.  
  


Later, when they've finished eating, Peter is on the verge of falling asleep again. He's dressed in an old T-shirt and Star Wars pajama pants, now. Wade can't remember him getting up to change, but he figures the author just decided to put Peter in different clothes to somehow progress the plot.  
  


“Are we dating?”  
  


“Huh?” Wade snaps out of his thoughts and looks over at Peter, who's looking at him with half-lidded eyes, his head resting on a pillow.  
  


Peter yawns. “You're always around here, now. I can't remember the last time you went home for more than half a day, and you sleep in my bed with me when we can be bothered to get off the couch, and-”  
  


“I thought you didn't date,” Wade points out.  
  


“Maybe I just don't date girls...” Peter mutters. “Or, uh... guys who can die.”  
  


“I saw you with a girl at IHOP, once.”  
  


“Huh?” Peter blinks into a more aware state, seemingly thinking. “You mean MJ? She's just a friend.”  
  


“Is she? She's more in the comics.”  
  


“Comics?” Peter seems confused.  
  


“Uh...” Wade shakes his head. “Never mind.”  
  


**[Stop making this shit so complicated, Wilson. Just tell him yes.]**  
  


_[Oreos are the best food in the world.]_  
  


**[…]**  
  


“Look, if you want us to just be friends, that's fine,” Peter says, moving until he's sitting upright. “But then we gotta stop blurring all these lines, because I like you and I think if we go on like this I might begin to lo-”  
  


Wade kisses him.  
  


Their first kiss is short. Really just a means to get Peter to shut up. Their second kiss lasts longer and is more desperate, as if they're trying to make up for lost time.  
  


For the second time in his life, the boxes are completely silent. Wade realizes both times have been because of Peter, and he smiles against his lips.  
  


“If we do this-” Peter says when they pull apart, trying to catch their breaths. “You can't run away. You can't decide I hate you just because I'm a bit distracted and leave for three months, you can't-”  
  


“That was one time,” Wade defends himself. “And to be fair, we didn't know each other that well, back then.”  
  


“Well, stuff like that still can't happen. You can't make me fall in love with you and then decide it's better if you leave.”  
  


“I won't go anywhere unless you explicitly tell me to get out of your life,” Wade promises. “Now can we _please_ go back to making out?”  
  


Peter laughs and agrees.

  
  


  
  


((– – “What?” Wade asks later, when Peter has fallen asleep and is curled up against his chest. He knows his boyfriend won't wake up, because the story is technically over. “That's it? After that entire long angsty rant about us clearly ending up together we're not even gonna fuck?”  
  


But the author doesn't really feel up for writing smut right now.  
  


“Well, fuck that shit then. I hope some angsty teen with a porn blog discovers Spideypool soon.” – –))


End file.
